Lore
by Lady Mayflower
Summary: [Part 2 of the Legacy trilogy] With the Year of the Dragon complete, everyone is prepared to put the spell of dark sorcerers and sorceresses behind them. Unfortunately, with the Dragonfly Festival comes a threat more powerful than anything the Dragon Realms have seen before - and Spyro is caught in the middle, surrounded by dark gems and haunted by a mysterious prophecy.
1. Enter the Dragonfly

_Hello, my little dragonlets! For everyone who's followed the Legacy saga so far, welcome back! And to any newcomers I may have found, welcome to the show! ___(And thank you guys SO much for your patience; I know I promised this months ago, but 2014 was a rough year for writing...) _As sequels go, I'm obligated to warn everybody that this is a sequel, and anyone who hasn't read Legacy may want to go back and do that. Alternatively, if you've played the original Spyro trilogy, you should be alright; Legacy was just an enhanced novelization of the trilogy, so you know the story beats if you've played the games._

_Also be warned that while Legacy strived to stay true to the trilogy storyline, I'm taking a lot more creative liberties this time around. Anyone who's played through Enter the Dragonfly, Hero's Tail, or Shadow Legacy can probably guess why; as far as intriguing plots and clever level design goes, there isn't much for me to work with. I don't think many of you are going to mind me fuddling with the scripts, but if you do, here's your warning._

_Regardless, I'm going to do my best to make something fantastic out of what's available, so I hope you guys can sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. :) Let's game on, dragonlets!_

**DISCLAIMERS:**  
>Spyro the Dragon, both the original PS1 games as well as the character (c) Insomniac Games<br>Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly, as well as all involved settings and characters (c) Universal Interactive  
>Spyro: A Hero's Tail, as well as all involved settings and characters (c) Vivendi Games<br>Spyro: Shadow Legacy, as well as all involved settings and characters (c) Sierra Entertainment

I am only saying this once, but the above disclaimers apply to the entirety of the fanfiction.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE: Enter the Dragonfly<strong>

_"GAH! How difficult can it be to smite one tiny dragon?!"_

_"I know! Just a dumb dragonlet, all dumb and tiny and dumb!"_

_The smallest of the sorcerers rolled his eyes; he wasn't quite sure Spyro was the dumb one in _that_ rivalry. "Well, that sad excuse for a purple dragon won't be getting the better of me this time! Of that you can be sure!"_

_"I wouldn't be." The trio looked up at the thunderous flap of wings, all cowering slightly under the sheer magical might of their new 'partner'. "You should watch what you say about the legendary purple dragons. They're no laughing matter, I assure you."_

_"If you didn't think we could handle the job, why invite us to try?"_

_"Because you all are hungry for vengeance, and I need that dragon out of my scales before my plans can commence. Why wouldn't I want to crush two lava lizards with one rock?"_

_"Heh. I like crushing lava lizards."_

_"Silence. Do we have a plan?"_

_"I think I have an idea. We just need to wait until dragonfly season."_

ooOOooOOoo

As days in the Artisans often were, the sky was bright and the breeze was warm. The newest batch of Artisan hatchlings, just barely a month old, were scampering through the fields as they clumsily chased each other through the fields of fodder. After the stresses of "the Thousand-Year Kidnapping", as DNN tried to sell the story, the Artisans had finally returned to their trademark calm and pleasantness. The new dragon parents were able to breathe easy, knowing their children were home and safe. For once, the dragons could safely say that they were all safe from any-

"SORCERESS!"

Using his legendary catlike reflexes, Hunter bounded out of the way of the scaly menace, pulling out his bow and taking aim at the beast as she loomed overhead, closing in slowly on Spyro below. The Artisan hero waved in Hunter's direction, _begging _to be rescued from the horror. "Take this, evil witch-hag!"

"Hunter, wait!" But before Spyro could finish, Hunter let his arrow fly. With his perfect aim, it flew straight as...well, an arrow, soaring into the skies and striking the Sorceress right between her beady black eyes.

...Causing the scaly queen to deflate with a flatulent whistle that made all of the dragonlets giggle, before the remains of her stretchy skin crashed on top of Spyro. The purple dragon blew the "Sorceress" away with a hot flume of breath, pulling himself out from under it. "Hunter, it was a balloon. Relax."

Hunter looked back and forth between his bow and the deflated balloon before sheepishly putting his weapon away. "I knew that."

The Artisans were also decorated for the occasion, with plenty of snacks and fresh fodder to eat and lots of balloons around for the kids to play with. (Or for Hunter to destroy. Though to be fair, everyone agreed the stretched, grisled balloon was eerily accurate of the actual Sorceress.) Not only were they properly celebrating Spyro's defeat of the evil gemcrafter and the return of the Forgotten Worlds, but it was time for the final piece of the Dragon Festival: the coming of the dragonflies.

Zoe and the other fairies had just arrived with the Artisan dragonflies, but would take a little while longer to get settled. So while Hunter disposed of the balloon, ignoring the hysterical laughter of Bianca and Elora from the sidelines, Delbin took the opportunity to pull his pup aside. "Spyro, before the ceremony begins, may I have a word?"

"So long as I don't get pelted by any more balloons." As Delbin took a seat, Spyro hopped up on one of the Artisan steps next to him. "What's up?"

"I was just speaking to Nestor before the dragonflies arrived. Looking at all of the attacks that have happened the past few years and how involved you've been in all of them...We think it'd be for the best if you started your dragon-kata training early."

"Like...how early?"

"This year early. The second-ages will be preparing to leave not long after the Dragonfly Festival; you could go with them."

Spyro frowned. When he was younger, all he wanted to do was to train with the older dragons, who got to practice headbashes and breath abilities while he was stuck babysitting dragonlets. Now it was the _last _thing he wanted. Sent away to some strange island, forced to read and study all day, having no fun with the no-nonsense kata elders...and on top of that, he'd have to leave Elora and Hunter behind. And all for what? To perfect something he'd been reliably doing for the past three years?

Delbin got up after seeing the tell-tale look on his pup's face. "We'll discuss it after the festival," he dismissed.

"Yeah, yeah," Spyro grumbled, getting up as well and trotting off to meet up with Hunter and the girls, now that the balloon was discarded and the dragonflies were let loose.

"Aw, baby dragonflies are so cute!" Elora couldn't help but gush, cutely scratching one's antennae. The bright blue dragonfly gave a high-pitched buzz in delight.

"Yeah, then they grow up and just get kind of fat and lazy and snarky," Spyro snickered, clearly jabbing at the golden dragonfly over his shoulder, earning himself a whack in the horns.

"I still don't get the whole dragonfly thing," Hunter said, watching some of the dragonlets rush into the crowd, accidentally scaring the dragonflies off as they tried to play.

"How is there still so much you don't know about the dragons when one of them is your best friend?" Bianca asked.

"Because I have better things to do than read books all day." Hunter immediately regretted his words as Bianca took the very spellbook she was cradling and slammed all 879 pages of it on his tail. "Yeowch!"

"The dragonflies are guardians of the dragon realms," Bianca went on to explain, reclaiming her book as Hunter went to massage his tail. "They're the ones responsible for keeping an eye out on the hatchlings and making sure they don't get hurt or into trouble."

"Not to mention, they get a best friend," Spyro added. "Right, Sparx?"

"More like a pain in the tail we've gotta babysit for the rest of our lives." Regardless of Sparx's attitude, anyone who knew the duo for more than a few minutes could tell how close he and Spyro really were.

Hunter grumbled as he rubbed out the new kink in his tail. "Alright, alright, I get it. What're you carryin' that stupid book around for, anyway?"

"Apart from needing something to hit you with?" Bianca shot back. "I need to study. I start magic lessons with Elder Cosmo as soon as the Dragonfly Festivals are over. Or would you rather I move back to the Crystal Islands and 'find something better to do'?"

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant-"

Deciding to break up the fight, Elora stepped up and interrupted them. "Oh, come on, guys, this isn't the time. We're in the middle of a festival! The baby dragons are out having fun, it's a beautiful Artisan day, and-"

She paused as everyone looked up to the sound of thunder. Quite the contrary, it was no longer a beautiful Artisan day. In just moments, the sunshine and warm breezes were swallowed up by torrid stormclouds, prompting a bit of chaos to break out as the full-growns tried to herd their children and protect the dragonflies from any stray gusts of wind. While no rain fell, the wind howled and the thunder roared, making the Artisans darker and darker until only the occasional bolt of lightning and the dull glow of the dragonflies were left to illuminate the grassy plains.

Before anyone had time to assess the situation, a lightning strike came down right in the center of the festivities, only steps away from where Spyro and friends were seated. A dark, swirling portal tore out of the earth, filling the Artisans with a discomforting sense of dread and black magical energies. While the older dragons prioritized hiding the children, Spyro and Hunter stood their guard to tackle whatever threat would emerge to crash the party.

Unfortunately, nothing could've prepared them for what eventually stepped forth.

Pounding footsteps emerged from the dark and swirling magic of the newly-made portal, which eventually gave way to beastly silhouettes before the creatures stepped into view. The taller of the two stepped out first, a twisted blue dragon brandishing a spiked club with a mighty roar. The second, this one quadrupedal, followed close behind; this one was less draconic and more dinosauric in nature, shaking the Artisans with every mighty step he took and hungrily sniffing as much as he could for something - or someone - to eat.

Perched on the green lizard's back was a third, much smaller than his lackeys. A bright orange dino in a flapping black cloak, his face under-lit menacingly by a sparking, pulsing power scepter. The sorcerer cackled after looking out into the crowd. "We heard there was a party in the Dragon Realms today. I hope we're not late for the festivities."

Bianca and the dragons had no idea who had crashed their festival, but Spyro, Hunter, and Elora were quick to recognize the threat. "RIPTO!"

"Nice to see my subjects remember me," Ripto sneered. "Hunter, Elora, so nice to see you again. It's been a few years since I nearly conquered Avalar, hasn't it?"

"No way, how'd you survive the lava pits?" Elora asked, still trying to process Ripto's appearance. They were all there, they watched as Spyro sent Ripto plunging into the Winter Palace arena after the sorcerer's magic coated the entire area in scorching lava.

"Yeah, and how soon 'til we send you back?" Hunter added, arrow nocked and ready to fire the moment Ripto tried anything funny.

Ripto waved his new scepter. In a flash of dark magic, Hunter's arrow sprung to life, twisting into a snapping cobra and forcing Hunter to drop it with a scream. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be staying much longer this time around. I'm afraid I've got bigger plans than just conquering Avalar."

Not only was Ripto back from the dead, but Spyro could sense something different about the little sorcerer. His magic seemed far more powerful than it was when they butted heads in Avalar. Whoever saved him from the lava pits must have also thrown in a new power crystal for his scepter. That meant whoever "whoever" was couldn't be good news.

"What're you after, Ripto?" Spyro stepped forward. "You're crashing an invitation-only party. And last I checked, the dragons aren't your favorite people in the world."

"They aren't," Ripto was quick to point out, "but I learned my lesson after our last duel, Spyro. I'm done dealing with you dragons. I've decided to turn my attention to an...easier target."

With a wave of his scepter, dark pulses shook the Artisans. The full-growns struggled to keep the screaming, crying hatchlings under control as the wind continued to whip and howl around them. Spyro nodded for his team to join them; after all of the effort they put in to rescue the eggs just a month ago, no one wanted to see them hurt. He would deal with Ripto himself.

Amongst the chaos, black orbs appeared around the festival grounds. Each one burned with the darkest magical energy, and as they spawned, the orbs got their bearings and quickly began to hone in on the baby dragonflies. The little dragonflies shrieked in horror, flying as fast as they could to escape the attacks.

"Dragonflies are so much easier to deal with than you pesky dragons!" Ripto taunted over the noise. "And without them, you dragons are useless!"

Zoe gave a sharp whistle, catching the ear of all the fairies in the Artisans. "Girls! Don't let those things get the dragonflies!"

In a rush of sparkles and color, the fairies sped around the crumbling Artisans, zapping every dragonfly they could find, scattering them across the Dragon Realms. (Zoe had certainly learned her lesson the first time Ripto attacked.) Ripto gave a roaring snarl; as the dragonfly numbers diminished, he waved his scepter to redirect the dark magic onto the fairies. "Not this time, you little pixie brat! I'm not being bested by you rats with wings this time!"

"Zoe, look out!" As Ripto's attacks began to turn away, Spyro and Sparx rushed in to keep the danger away from Zoe and the other fairies. Before they could reach her, both heroes ground to a halt as a dark energy surrounded them, lifting them up and away from the battle. No matter how hard they struggled or beat their wings, neither could get loose from the constricting force.

Ripto waved his scepter again, dragging the two closer to him. "Ah-ah-ah, not so fast, dragon-breath! Can't have you two running around and ruining my plans _again_, can we?"

The tiny sorcerer wound up his staff, summoning a black orb larger and darker than any of the ones running rampant across the Artisan hills. Spyro and Sparx's eyes went wide, and both clawed and pulled at the invisible force with everything they had; it simply wouldn't budge.

Ripto let out a loud cackle. "Say hello to your ancestors for me, won't you, Spyro?" With one final laugh, he batted his scepter, sending the crackling orb shooting straight towards the trapped heroes.

"Spyro, Sparx, no!" In a bold flight of faith, Zoe rushed in, throwing herself into the line of fire. Before anyone else could react, Ripto's black magic struck its target. Smoke and dark energy poured out of the explosion, obscuring everything except Spyro's pained shrieks.

Pleased with his handiwork, Ripto waved for Crush to jump back through the portal. "We'll have to do this again sometime, dragons!" Ripto called back. "But for now, I've got dragonflies to squash!"

Hunter and the full-growns rushed for the portal, but by the time they reached it, Ripto and Gulp had passed through. The second they were gone, the portal sealed, leaving a crumbled hole in the ground where it sat. The winds began to settle, and any dark orb that hadn't met a target slowly dissipated into the air. Before long, the Artisans were back to their peaceful, sunny afternoon, with only the damage to the local scenery to show he had ever been there at all.

Except the Dragonfly Festival was now distinctly devoid of dragonflies. And a fallen purple dragon laid unconscious in the middle of the field.


	2. War Effort

_Hello, everyone! Okay, I'm going to try very hard to start cutting back on authors' notes, but I just wanted to chime in and thank you all for immediately latching onto the story. Getting faves and follows on Day 1 is such a huge relief! Here's hoping we can keep riding the hype train to the end. :)_

_Also, to answer people who have been asking about the GBA Spyro titles, I'm leaving them out. There's so little in those games to work with, even compared to the trilogy of games I AM trying to make something out of, it wasn't worth the extra fuss. Hopefully you guys won't miss them too badly!_

_Now, we've got a platforming puzzle to get to! (Look, for better or worse, the Platform Panic sections were probably the most memorable parts of ETD, at least for me.) So let's get on with the show!  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO: War Effort<strong>

"I found one, I found one!"

Fighting to catch her breath, Elora rushed into the Stone Hill tower, careful not to let loose the buzzing captive caught between her cupped fingers. Nestor and Bianca looked up as she made her way inside. Once she was in front of them, the faun slowly opened her hands, allowing a frightened green dragonfly to peek its head out.

"I found a dragonfly," Elora continued between gasps. "Will this help? Can this little guy get Spyro on his feet?"

"Unfortunately not, but I'm sure Ba'ah will be glad to see that Toons is safe and sound," Nestor answered, taking the dragonfly from her.

Elora hung her head with a sigh. "Shoot. I thought bringing a new dragonfly would help."

"Sorry, Elora, but dragonflies don't work like that," Bianca explained, finally looking away from the hefty dragon tome in her lap. "Not just any dragonfly can do the job. That's why the Dragonfly Festival is so important. That's when dragons get paired with _their _dragonfly. It's the magical bond between them that's so potent. Spyro can't just pair up with any dragonfly; he needs Sparx."

Elora sat on the straw bed next to Spyro. Hours had passed since Ripto's attack on the Artisans, and the purple dragon had yet to stir. His trademark scales seemed lifeless and pale, and he felt cold - far from the protective warmth she remembered him to have.

She gently stroked one of his horns. "Yeah, I figured. I just wanted to help."

"You can start by not worrying so much, Miss Elora," Nestor said. "Everyone in the Realms is out searching for Ripto and the dragonflies, including Hunter and your friends from the Forgotten Worlds. They'll find Sparx eventually."

Elora bit her lip. They all saw the attack; what if they _couldn't _find Sparx? What if there simply wasn't a Sparx left to find? But she couldn't bring herself to ask. Spyro was always so confident; even in the face of certain destruction, he could assure everyone that there'd be a way out of it. And he always managed to find that way - it was the one type of promise he _could _keep.

She always had faith in Spyro, no matter what. How could she start doubting him now?

"You're right. I just need to stop psyching myself out." She gave a sharp sigh; if Spyro were awake, he could talk her down out of any tizzy.

"Deep breaths, Elora," Bianca said. "There's not much you can do except not work yourself up. The dragons won't let anything bad happen to Spyro; I know Hunter definitely won't if he has a say in it."

Elora bit back a groan. "Great, 'cause Hunter has the best track record for being reliable and saving the day."

ooOOooOOoo

"Alright, Hunter, time to save the day! _Hunter, super-cool cheetah, off for adventure! Looking for dragonflies! And always, off to-_YIKES!"

_PEW! PEW! PEW!_

Mere moments after charging heroically into the field, Hunter's expertly-written theme song was interrupted, as shot after shot of fiery plasma threatened to wreck his ship. It took quite a bit of careful maneuvering (plus a bit of crying and some pleading to the dragon gods), but the cheetah managed to weave his way around the oncoming fire and take off for the skies.

For too long, Hunter had tried to warn the others about the oncoming sheepocalypse. Every time, he was met with rolled eyes and scoffs: "there's no such thing as sheep UFOs, Hunter! Space cows aren't real!" He and Spyro were the only ones around to shoot down the first wave of sheep saucers back in Metropolis, and even the purple dragon seemed to shrug off the threat: "They're sheep that fly around in big, tin cans. How big of a deal could they be?"

And now here they were, taking advantage of the chaos in the Dragon Realms to wreak havoc in Crop Circle Country, attacking the dragons at their most valuable weak spots: the raceways of the Forgotten Worlds.

_POW! _"Hey! Watch where you're shootin'!"

"_BAAAAA!_"

"Oh, yeah? Well, BAAAAA to you, too!" With a growl, Hunter smashed on his controls, sending a plasma blast of his own to knock the mouthy sheep pilot to the ground.

Luckily for all of them, Farmer Dill had a prototype UFO on hand to deal with the sheep menace. (Though the rest of the farmers were more concerned that Farmer Dill "just happened" to have a highly-experimental anti-sheep-saucer device "sitting around" in his barn.) Regardless of the circumstances, Hunter took control of the prototype airship and decided to take on the sheep fleet. (He had Farmer Dill's blessing, so long as he made sure that no cows got abducted by the space cow mother-ship while he was on patrol. Apparently, it was an unpleasant experience to deal with last time it happened.)

_PEW! PEW! PEW! BAM!_

After a shudder and an intense _BANG!_, a cacophony of sirens went off in Hunter's cockpit. Just as he started to approach the mothership, one of the sheep saucers managed a direct hit. Smoke and flame began to pour off of his hull, and the prototype ship started losing altitude - _fast._

Hunter scrambled across the controls, doing everything he could to maintain altitude. Being speedway country, (technically Country Speedway, but you get the point), there was very little land underneath of the galactic firefight. Any hope of a crash-landing was stuck down at the bottom of a draconic ocean - not exactly where Hunter wanted to be, especially without his scuba suit.

He closed in on the mother-ship, but realized far too late that the main ship itself was surrounded by scrap and debris, likely a side effect of their massive tractor beam. (And they were abducting a cow, too, what timing.) His ship was knocked around mercilessly, doing nothing to aid the fiery trauma he still had to deal with.

Hunter had to make a decision, and quick. And considering how uneasy the other farmers were about Dill's UFO license, he figured nobody would be mad at the one he decided on.

The prototype ship smashed into a piece of debris, lodged in place just long enough for Hunter to make his move. The cheetah threw open the hatch as wide as he could, giving himself just enough room to squeeze out of the ship and clamor onto the piece of debris. Thanks to the mother-ship's passive tractor-hold, he and the debris stayed in orbit. As the flames spread across his ship, the prototype eventually fell, crashing into the murky waters below.

With his new foothold (unsteady as it was), Hunter took a second to look around. Each of the chunks of...metal? Barn debris? Crashed sheep saucers? Whatever they were, each was suspended carefully around the center hub of the mother-ship, making a makeshift barrier around the large, flashing saucer. The space cows were sure to be inside, which meant Hunter had to get there, one way or another. (And with no prototype UFO to take him the rest of the way, he'd unfortunately have to settle for "or another.")

Using his incredible cat reflexes, he bounded over to the next stable-looking piece of debris. The space junk spun around the ship like rings of an asteroid field; while some rows spun faster or slower than others, there did seem to be a pattern to the madness. Careful to keep his cool, he chose his jumps wisely and slowly hopped from platform to platform.

(He prided himself on his jumping skills, often bragging that he had more raw jumping power than even Spyro, but every near-miss or heart-wrenching slip made him long for his purple partner in crime (namely, said partner's wings). Especially whenever he glanced down at the dark waters below - why did the dragons think it was a good idea to build their speedways over oceans?)

With only one jump standing between him and the mother-ship, Hunter dove for the saucer with everything he had. Unfortunately, the lack of wings finally came around to hurt him, and he slipped just shy of a smooth landing. "Aw, shoot! Every time!" Scraping and digging in his claws, Hunter just barely managed to avoid sliding right off the edge and into the water.

He stabilized, and for a moment, everything seemed fine. _Deep breaths, Hunter. You can pull yourself up from here. Just don't slip, don't panic, and don't-_

"So, if it isn't the Avalari pest that's been shooting down our saucers!"

"And don't get shot by space cows," Hunter finished under his breath. A space cow had stormed out of the mothership to confront him, and was now pointing its space laser down between Hunter's eyes. One glance at the cow's suit, which was lined with buttons and badges, told him this particular space cow was the pilot of the ship - the leader of the space cows and their sheep saucer fleet.

"Any last words, kitty cat?" the cow taunted, charging its blaster.

"Don't shoot?"

_PEW! _Without even bothering to retort, the space cow fired. Hunter threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the blast at the cost of leaving just one set of claws to keep him from sliding off the side of the ship. While the cow's blaster flickered down in order to recharge, Hunter went on the offensive. He worked up some momentum, then threw himself into a front-flip, giving him just enough of a push to jump back onto the mothership. He and the space cow exchanged a few frantic blows, each trying to push the other off the edge while not falling off themselves, then reached an equilibrium as they moved back towards the center.

The space cow leader fired another shot, but this time, Hunter was ready. He nimbly rolled out of the way of the attack, then unsheathed his claws and tore at the space cow's legs. The leader let out a yell of pain, and while he was stunned, Hunter turned his claws to the cow's blaster hoof. With a slosh of anti-gravity space blood, the cow leader dropped his only weapon.

While the leader scrambled to reclaim his gun, Hunter reached for his own weapon. He pulled out his bow and prepped an arrow, just in time for the leader to find his gun and drop to his cow knees to retrieve it. With the space cow down, Hunter moved in, tackling him and crushing the cow's collarbone under his foot.

With the leader pinned under his paws, Hunter pulled back an arrow, keeping it locked between the cow's beady eyes. "Your game ends now, space scum! What are you after?"

The space cow scowled up at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yeah, duh, that's why I asked you! Come on, don't ruin my moment!"

"Funny how you say that," the space cow paused to cough, struggling to catch his breath, "when it's your _friend_ the Master's currently after."

"Master who? And what does he want with Spyro?" (At least he assumed they were after Spyro. Most magical evil bad guys were, after all.)

With a bit of stretching, the space cow finally wrapped a hoof around his laser blaster. With a quick pull of the trigger, he fired a shot. It missed its target, but the flash and the bang was enough to send Hunter stumbling back, giving the space captain a chance to get to his feet. "Just tell your precious dragon elders that our Master is coming back to reclaim his lands! And once the mighty purple dragon has fallen, our sheep fleet will be free to conquer Avalar and take the Winter Palace as our own! The world will fall under our technological-"

_Moo! _While the space cow indulged in his evil monologue, Hunter righted his bow and fired his arrow. It hit the captain straight between the eyes, felling the mighty space leader with a _poof!_ While most enemies broke into gems or spirit particles upon their defeat, the space cow captain broke into a pendant. Once the coast seemed clear, Hunter stepped forward and picked it up. It was a simple gold setting, strung on a leather cord. The gem at its center was unlike anything he had ever seen - while the dragon treasure was known for being vibrant and beautiful (if not a little hard to find in the lush landscapes of the Dragon Realms), this gem was a dark ruby, almost black depending on how it caught the light.

And on top of that, he had a message for the elders.

ooOOooOOoo

"...So wham! I shot the arrow at him, and down he went! But instead of going poof into a gem or something, I found this."

Nestor couldn't hide the worry on his face as he glanced over the mysterious artifact. "You couldn't get a name from him?"

"Nope, sorry," Hunter shrugged. "Did what I could, but no dice."

"It's just another piece of dragon treasure, right, Nestor?" Elora asked. "I mean, not saying it's a good thing, but you guys have dealt with these kind of riptocs before, haven't you?"

Nestor kept his eyes low, rolling the pendant in his claws, watching the different ways it shone and caught the candlelight. "Unfortunately, Elora, I don't think so. I think getting to the bottom of this mystery just became much, much more urgent."

He stepped outside, unfurling his wings and jumping into the skies, likely to gather the other dragons of the Artisans to share Hunter's find. With her typical look of concern, Elora looked back to the still-slumbering Spyro left in their care in the Stone Hill. "That means we need Spyro now more than ever."


	3. Gem Hunt and the Art of Peaceful Slides

**CHAPTER THREE: Gem Hunt and the Art of Peaceful Slides**

Since Spyro's re-discovery of the Forgotten Worlds, the already-bustling connections between the Dragon Realms and Avalar only grew bigger and busier. Now creatures from all three worlds could visit and travel, all thanks to some newly-built portals. Luckily, this also meant the fairies had three times as much space to hide the dragonflies from Ripto, and they had three times the heroes to help search them out.

Many of Spyro's companions from the Forgotten Worlds jumped at the recovery efforts. After spending so much time hunting down the eggs, nobody wanted another evil sorcerer making life any more difficult for the young hatchlings. Sheila was spearheading the search in the mountains, where a new portal system had linked her alp to Bentley's outpost by the Icy Peak, the Frozen Altars, and the yetis' post-dragon-exodus home of the Colossus Mountains. (Who knew the ancient yetis needed so much mountain range to spread out?)

As much as the young kangaroo loved an excuse to visit Colossus, she couldn't help but frown as she bounded up and down the mountainsides. Even when the baby dragons weren't in danger, Bentley frequented Colossus to study under the monks (while some of the brothers kept Bartholemew busy out back on the hockey rink). Not to mention, he lived closer, and yetis were slightly better built for mountain climbing than kangaroos. He should've been out covering the area long before she even got there, but there wasn't sign of him anywhere.

"RRRRRRRRRRRRAAYAAARRGH!"

Sheila froze, nearly slipping on the snow from her sudden halt. Anyone who spent more than a few days in Colossus could recognize the sound of a hungry yeti. Unfortunately, the brothers' virtues of peace and tranquility made them easy pickings for the feral yetis that roamed the mountains. (They were barely a match for the goats that insisted on ramming one of them off of the cliffs every once in a while, but they insisted the goats were nicer when they weren't so agitated by the yeti-folk. She was always thankful her little brothers weren't quite so ornery as the wild goats - at least those three only rammed _each other _off the mountains.)

Immediately changing course, Sheila started her descent towards the brothers' base camp. Making sure none of them were being eaten by feral yetis was just as much of a priority as the dragonflies. (Who would hide such delicate babies at the top of a frigid mountain, anyway?)

As she got closer and closer to the temples, the screams and roars of the yeti became louder and louder. In fact, Sheila eventually noted that there was more than one of them, and they all sounded _furious_. Following the sounds of the fight eventually led her to the yeti chambers, where the emergency portal back to Avalar's Summer Forest was kept. Ever since Spyro's first sweep of the mountains, the brothers considered it good luck to herd the yetis inside, in hopes that the dragon gods would continue to bless them with giant statues with which to smash them.

For a moment, she paused - one yeti, she could handle no problem, but an entire herd could be an issue. However, caution quickly went to the wind when she heard a voice inside, one speaking actual words as opposed to the grunts and roars of the yeti herd. "Oi! 'ay, come on, guys, what're you lot doin'?! Go mess up yer own mountainside, people live 'ere! 'ay, what're you-OI! Don't go throwin' that at-YIKES! O-Okay, 'ay, maybe we c'n...w-why are you lot lookin' at me like-OKAY, OKAY, SORRY, GO BACK TA SMASHIN' THE STUFF, I DIDN'T MEAN IT!"

"Hang on, Barty, Sheila's gotcha!" Trying to rush in as quick as she could, Sheila bounced through one of the smashed windows, ducking and hopping until she could spot the baby yeti amidst the destruction. There were four yetis she could count, all rather intent on tearing the chamber to pieces. Windows were blown out, books were shredded, statues were shattered, and still they smashed away with their clubs, as if they wouldn't be satisfied until the entire temple was in ruin.

The strangest part was that these yetis weren't the ones she was expecting. The feral yetis that plagued the mountains were tall, with heavy brows and thick, coarse brown fur. They were the ones that promoted the "yeti stereotype" that all of the creatures were stupid and destructive. _These _yetis, however, were not them. They stood quite a bit shorter, though stockier to make up for the height difference, with lighter fur that faded to a gray at their hands and feet. These yetis were Bentley's brood from the Evening Lake, yetis who could speak and rationalize, quite unlike their wild counterparts.

And yet, here they were - the Outpost yetis, screaming and causing mayhem like they were Colossus-bred.

Sheila ducked and dodged a few shrine artifacts that had become projectiles, just long enough for Bartholomew to find her and clamor his way into her pouch for safety. "Sheila, I swear, I will never make fun'a you fer bein' a kangaroo in the mountains ever again," he promised. (Sheila knew that promise would be good as dead tomorrow, but Bartholomew's attitude was just part of his charm.)

The kangaroo whipped a snowball aside with her tail. "Good ta see ya too, Barty, but what the blazes is goin' on here?"

"Don't look at me, I didn't do it! We just-Yikes!" Bartholomew burrowed into hiding as one of the yetis charged towards them, suddenly deciding the room needed a splash of splattered kangaroo across the walls.

Sheila bounced as high as she could, thanking the dragon gods for her years of practice lugging the triplets around, and _whack!, _gave the charging yeti the hardest double-kick to the face she could muster. The yeti fell back with a snarl, pawing at its cracked and bloodied nose. While it paused to lick its wounds, Sheila ducked out of their corner and bounded out towards the center of the room, where she would have more room to maneuver. Two of the other yetis spotted her movement and rushed in to stop her, shouting nonsense with their clubs flailing. The kangaroo paused, glancing between the two as the brutes attempted to flank her. At the last possible second, she bounded up and threw herself out of the way, causing the two yetis to crash into each other with a mountain-shaking _THUD!_

Unfortunately, the clever dodge threw her right back into the range of the yeti she had just bloodied. The broken-nosed beast shrieked in hysteria and brought down its mighty club on kangaroo and yetiling. _BAM! _A narrow miss. _BAM! _The reverberations knocked Sheila off her feet. _BAM! _A clumsy roll spared herself and Bartholemew, but left Sheila in the unfortunate position of being unable to dodge. She could only watch and do her best to cover the little yetiling as the bloodied brute readied his club for one final strike-

_CRACK! _The yeti fell back as a second club jumped in to block its own, throwing the disoriented creature backwards. The defending club then smashed open the nearby window, just large enough to make for a yeti-sized escape route, and its wielder grabbed Sheila and Bartholemew up in his mighty yeti paws and made a hasty escape from the den.

"Nice timin', Bent."

"Well, I'm certainly nothing if not pragmatic and punctual."

With kangaroo and both yeti brothers safely outside, Bentley ran towards a nearby pair of Colossi monk statues and swiftly uprooted them both, slinging one over each shoulder. Before any of the other yetis could catch up, he slammed the mighty pieces of artwork down, effectively blocking the makeshift doorway...at least for now. "That ought to do the trick," Bentley said with a heaving sigh, picking back up his club.

"I owe ya a solid, Bent," Sheila said with a grateful nod. "It was 'bout ta get dicey in there 'fore you showed up."

"Think nothing of it, my dear. I owed you the debt of gratitude first when you arrived before I could and rescued that rapscallion brother of mine. Who was _not _supposed to wander off by himself," he added, giving a stern glare to the baby yeti still hiding out in Sheila's pouch (though now from the wrath of his brother rather than the enraged yetis). "I hope he wasn't any extra trouble."

"Ah, Barty's nothin'. I got three brothers 'a my own back home, none much older than him. They just got bigger horns 'n thicker skulls." A loud _thump! thump! _against the makeshift barricade interrupted their conversation. Sheila grabbed hold of Bentley's wrist and bounded off. "Uh, sounds like this ain' the best place fer a Sunday chat, yeah?"

Bentley switched their hands and turned Sheila towards one of the central temples. "Here, this way. While you were dealing with the yetis, the brothers and I discovered something that you and the rest of the dragonfly-rescue squadron may find interesting and imperative to our mission."

"Unless you found a nest'a baby dragonflies, I dunno what kinda thing you think's gonna-"

Sheila lost the words to finish her sentence as they entered the central monastery. Unlike the rest of Colossus, which was bright most of the day and glistened with fresh snow, the monastery was uncomfortably dark. A towering gemstone sat in the middle of the floor, glowing an odd dark violet color that neither of them had ever seen dragon treasure have before. A black ooze covered the rest of the area, puddling around the gem as if it was bleeding the old hall dry. A few of the brothers were doing their best to wie-yie-yie-yom the gem away, while others still were leaning in for a closer look. (Brother Andrew, meanwhile, was attempting to sacrifice one of the local goats to the ooze puddle.)

"What the bangers is that thing?" the kangaroo eventually asked instead.

"Exactly what the brothers and I are trying to figure out," Bentley explained. "I meant to join you on the dragonfly search earlier, but the brothers insisted that this was a far more pressing matter. It isn't wholly illogical to deduce that this gem may very well be tied to Ripto's return, the dragonfly scattering, _and _the yetis acting the way they are."

"Can't we just break the thing?" Sheila asked. She pulled Bartholemew out of her pouch, then bounded up and gave the mystery gem a hard kick in the side. _Thunk! _The gem didn't budge an inch, instead sending the kangaroo bouncing backwards.

"You got about as far as we did," Bentley informed her. "I nearly broke my club attempting to dismantle it."

"It takes more than brute force to destroy a dark gem."

A new brother entered the hall to join them. Brother Doug studied the same ancient tomes and chanted the same wie-yie-yie-yom as his brothers, but grew up away from the Avalar temples in a secluded part of the Forgotten Realms. (He was also more simian in nature than the Avalari, leading some to believe that he was actually just another of the Professor's hyper-intelligent lab monkeys.)

"Clever name, mate," Sheila acknowledged sarcastically, "but that don' exactly help us out, yeah?"

"Do you recognize this pyropic encumbrance, then?" Bently asked?

"I know only the legends," Brother Doug lamented, stepping closer to the crackling stone. "Remember that the dragons have only recently returned to our world. Midnight Mountain has not seen a plague of dark gems in over a thousand years."

"Ain' never a good thing when you're dealin' with somethin' older than the Sorceress."

"Would you care to indulge us in the tale, Douglas?"

"The legends say that ages and ages ago, a storm of darkness threatened to destroy the Dragon Realms. A powerful dark dragon rose up, with violet scales and a castle built of dark gems that bled the world dry of all its magic. He nearly destroyed dragonkind as we know it - it took the combined powers of all five dragon masters to defeat him. But with his last dying breath, he swore vengeance on the dragon masters. On the wings of his ancestor, another dark dragon born but once in ten generations, he would make his return and rebuild his empire." After his investigation of the gem still turned up nothing, he backed away with a sigh. "I cannot be certain who summoned these gems, but their negative energy is too potent to ignore. We can only pray it isn't an omen of worse things to come."

"Still one thing that don' tell us, mate." Sheila turned to face the gem again, just close enough to see her own warped, discolored reflection in its glossy broad edges. "Where'd our Mr. Bad Guy get these things? And what happens if they c'n find more?"

ooOOooOOoo

"I'm gonna ask you the Mr. Nice-Guy way one more time, punk! Where'd ya get the gems?!"

The draconic Black Market was truly a spectacle, at least for those who knew how to find it. The Thieves' Den was buried in a faraway part of the world, where the borders of the Forgotten Worlds and the Dragon Realms still met after a thousand years apart. Hidden underground, its twisting halls were dark, but the endless glimmer of stolen dragon treasure sent dancing lights of red, green, yellow, blue, and violet across the cavernous walls.

However, it wasn't the sparkling allure of dragon treasure that brought Sergeant Byrd and Agent 9 to seek out the fabled Black Market.

The thief they were confronting sat calmly, even in the face of one laser pistol and two shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. Like the rest of the Dragon Realms' most wanted, his entire body was hidden under endless wrappings of cloth - this one in particular took his robes in a shade of raspberry - save for two beady eyes and a devilish grin that peeked out from an exposed piece of his face.

"Then perhaps I'll only have to answer you one more time," he replied. "I'm afraid my provider has asked me not to release that information."

"My good sir, perhaps you don't understand the gravity of the situation," Byrd stepped in. "A maniacal sorcerer is attempting to eliminate the dragonflies and conquer the Dragon Realms, and these gems seem to be behind his madness. Failure to cooperate could result in worlds-wide disaster, which-"

_PEW-PEW! _When the sergeant stopped to look back at their interrogation target, he was little more than a pile of raspberry rags. "Nine! What did we say about shooting suspects?!"

The simian sharpshooter looked nervously back and forth between his penguin companion and the smoking laser pistol in his grip. "Mr. Laser Blaster, why did you do that?" he faux-gawked. He shook the laser blaster near his ear, as if listening for a message in the rattle of bolts and wires. "Oh, is that so? Well, can't argue with that logic, now can I?"

Byrd grumbled with a roll of his eyes. He and the monkey made an exemplary team at the firing ranges, but that didn't mean he admired Agent 9 as a teammate in the field. "Well, there goes our lead. How are we supposed to track these bloody gems now?"

"Keep shooting until someone fesses up?" Agent 9 suggested.

"You fire that pistol again and you'll have bigger problems than these dark gems." Byrd fluttered up to higher ground, looking over the Black Market in an attempt to spot their 'plan B.' Plenty of thieves wove in and around the booths, but with all of their faces and wares covered, there was no telling who was peddling what. There were plenty of valuables around, including a menagerie of dragon treasure in every color available-

-Including a mine cart of crackling dark gems that just entered the Market from a north entrance. "YOU THERE! DROP THE CART AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"

He was hardly expecting compliance. In proper thief fashion, the one manning the cart - this one choosing to wear his robes in a more-traditional blue - immediately turned down the hall and ran. In his wake, a cackle could be heard echoing into the Marketplace: "Nyeh-nyeh-ne-nyeh-nyeh! Heehehehee!"

The sergeant sprung into action, kicking on his thrusters and shooting down into the labyrinth of halls that surrounded the Black Market. He made up just enough ground to keep on the thief's tail, but as was always the case with their kind, he couldn't muster enough momentum to close the gap. Around and around they went, circling back through hallway after hallway, Byrd always just out of flipper's reach from their culprit. He tried to unload a few rockets, but every time he did, the thief just barely swerved out of the way, and in more than one case, actually took advantage of the slowdown to get behind Byrd and start their chase all over again.

Even with his new jet engine system, the chase was beginning to take its toll on the militant penguin. No matter how hard he looked, there was nothing to slow the thief down. The high-speed stealer knew the Black Market like the back of his robes; Byrd's only hope would be if something jumped in front and slowed-

_WHAM! _"Gotcha, beady-eyed little punk!"

Sergeant Byrd barely managed to skid to a halt in time as Agent 9 caught them at the corner, tumbling down the corridor with their culprit until finally pinning the thief down with a _thud. _He sat on the thief's belly, using one hand to pin down his flailing arms while the other kept tight grip on his laser blaster, which he pointed between the thief's exposed eyes. "Now where'd you get the dark gems?"

"I don't have to tell you two anything!" came the hissed response.

_WHACK! _Rather than answer with gunfire (as he was so prone to do), Agent 9 used the butt of his laser pistol as a makeshift bludgeon to crack the thief in the face.

"Ow! That was my nose!"

"Don't you lie to me, Thiefy! You don't even HAVE a nose! Now tell us where you got the gems before I break other things on your face that you don't even have!"

"They're not even MY gems!" the thief insisted. "It's Wu's operation, I'm just the guy who runs the cart back and forth. Don't get paid nearly enough for it, either, considering Glimmer's a shine-hole of-"

Before he could bite his covered tongue, Agent 9 cut him off with a cackling laugh. "SO~O, you're getting the shinies from Glimmer, is that it?" The thief's silence was all they needed to hear. "Well, thanks for your cooperation, buddy! Sounds like we've gotta go pay your friends down in Glimmer a special, little visit, now don't we?"

"Good job, Nine," Byrd said once he rejoined the simian Agent. "Perhaps I was wrong about that itchy trigger finger of yours."

"See? I can be useful sometimes!" (He immediately stopped to think about that after it left his mouth.) "Anyway, I think you owe Mr. Laser Blaster an apology."

"Alright. My apologies for-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Agent 9 rattled the laser pistol in Byrd's face. (Or at least in the penguin's general direction, given the height difference between them.) "Talk to the blaster."

"...Right. My apologies, Mr...Laser Blaster."

"The blaster forgives you." Satisfied with the acknowledgement, Agent 9 moved to leave the Market. "Now come on, we've got a portal to Glimmer to go catch! I mean, not really 'cause portals don't _move, _but-"

"Nine? Aren't you forgetting something?"

When Agent 9 turned around, Sergeant Byrd nodded back to their thief friend, who was crawling to his feet and back towards the Market. "I think you can go ahead and shoot that one if you'd like."

ooOOooOOoo

"Would I be right in assuming that Glimmer _isn't _supposed to look like this?"

"You sure got a funny way of askin' questions. But yeah, no, that's definitely NOT supposed to be here."

The most either of them knew (apart from any of Agent 9's hearsay from the Professor) about Glimmer was that it was a quiet, gentle place where the local Avalari wanted nothing more than to be at peace in their mines. With no dragons in Avalar to seek out the bountiful stores of treasure inside, the mice could mine and harvest the glittering jewels at their leisure.

Now there were no mice in hardhats to tend the mines, and the handcrafted gem lamps had gone dark.

In the largest and deepest of the mining chambers, they found a machine. It was an antennae-looking contraption crackling with an odd black electricity, sitting in a puddle of the same toxic black ooze that followed the plague of dark gems around the Realms. At its point sat a piercing purple light, which overcast its color-draining glow across all of the walls. The massive gem deposits that poked out of the dirt walls lacked their usual luster of red, green, blue, yellow, and violet. Instead, they were all a dark violet-red, almost black in the poor lighting. They weren't _quite _of the same magnitude as the dark gems they were hunting...but the wall of crystalline spikes surrounding the antennae certainly were.

"Well, we've found the source of our dark gem problem. What now?"

"Plan A, buddy!" Agent 9 pulled a handful of bombs out of his suit, lighting all of the fuses at once. "And by Plan A, I mean "Plan Fireworks Factory," but you get the idea. BANZAI!"

He chucked the armful of explosives into the maw of the machine, or at least as close as he could get through the wall of dark gems. Moments after Byrd and Nine cleared the area, _KA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! _A thunderous series of explosions shook the walls of the old Glimmer mine. Rock cracked, gems fell, the entire cave threatened to fall around them while the fires and smokeclouds blew past.

When the fall-out settled, every single dark gem was still in place. "Huh. Never seen that happen before."

"Allow me to try, soldier." Byrd waddled up to the ring of dark gems, closely examining their structure. "If brute force doesn't work, you have to try using a bit of finesse. Every wall has its breach point, you simply have to find it and exploit it."

The sergeant settled on his spot, then stepped back and took aim. His rocket launchers unfurled as far as they would go, exposing a hefty row of barrels all pointed at the machine and its protective wall of gems. One spot in particular looked like a particularly-good target: it was at an odd angle where two gems attempted to meet but couldn't quite cross, leaving the faintest gap with a purple light behind it revealing where the gems were at their thinnest.

_KA-POW-POW-POW-POW! _Again, the Glimmer mines lurched under the pressure of firepower. The carts and scraps of metal around all rattled in sync with the rapid rocket-fire. Cracks appeared at the base of the gem ring, and the raw Glimmer earth beneath them made a worrisome rumbling as the sustained fire tempted it to give out.

The smoke cleared. The dark gems didn't even show signs of bullet-holes; it was as if the assault simply didn't happen.

"So what does the humming-book say to do when brute force AND finesse don't do it?"

"In this particular case, I believe our best bet may be returning to the Artisans and reporting back to the dragons. Hopefully they can prove more of a match than either of us could."


End file.
